The Best Time of The Year
by newyorknewyork
Summary: On a harsh January night Darry must identify the bodies of his mother and father. One shot. Nov/08 - Rewritten slightly.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Outsiders. Made zilch writing this.

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He walked up the steps of his parents' home with a broad grin plastered his face. He opened the front door and walked in and down the entry way in just a few long strides.

"Hey, Dad!" he called, removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. "You still up?"

He walked into the living room to see his brother Sodapop sitting over an open math book, but watching the television with their youngest brother Ponyboy.

"Hey, Darry. Where ya been?" Soda asked, glad to have someone to talk to. Ponyboy seemed a bit absorbed in the show.

Darry smiled bigger. "I went out with Albert for a few celebratory drinks. I got promoted today. That means a pay raise, and that means one step closer to OU next year. Talk about things gettin' better in the new year."

"Man, that's great, Dar," Soda replied genuinely.

Ponyboy looked up from his program. "Good for you, Darry."

"I wanna tell Mom and Dad. They in bed already?"

"Nah, they went out to a restaurant to celebrate New Years' Eve around eight-thirty or so. They're not back yet," Soda answered.

This was peculiar.

"Not back yet?" Darry repeated, "But it's after two. Since when does Mom let Dad have _that _much fun?

"Even _I_'ve been home for an hour," Soda added.

"It's that late already?" Pony asked. "No wonder I've never seen this show before. I'm usually in bed by now."

Darry grinned. "Yeah, you better get goin' or when Mom gets home she'll have your hide."

"Aw, no she won't. Christmas break don't end 'til the third; what does it matter if I ever go to sleep?"

Darry mockingly messed Ponyboy's perfectly coifed hair and laughed. "'Cause you're her wittle baby boy and need your rest."

Soda laughed and closed his textbook.

"Shut up, Darry," Ponyboy replied pseudo-angrily. "I mean, for God's sake, I'm thirteen now. I stopped bein' a baby a long time ago."

"Yeah, I know, kid," Darry said, taking a seat on the doily-covered couch next to Soda and putting his feet up.

"It's Dar's _job _to rag on ya, Pony. It's what he does." Soda leaned back and playfully punched his older brother in the shoulder.

Ponyboy turned back to his program.

Darry looked down at the Algebra book Soda had closed. "You doin' _home_work, Soda?"

"Well, I thought maybe I'd look at it for a minute. Forget it, though. I don't know what kinda teacher in their right mind assigns work over the break. The holidays are supposed to be the best time of the year, right?"

"You are right, my brother. Maybe I'll do it for you tomorrow. Or, help you, I mean." He laughed and ruffled Soda's hair.

"Hell, if you'd of offered that earlier I wouldn't of even looked at it."

Darry punched Soda a little harder than Soda had hit him earlier, but smiled.

"So anyway," Darry began again, "Mom and Dad haven't called or nothin'?"

"Nope," Soda answered. "Maybe Pop didn't have enough money for the restaurant; he left his wallet at home again."

Darry chuckled. "He always forgets something. I think you take after him, Soda."

"I think _you _do. There's a reason people think _he's _your brother instead of me."

"Well, whatever. Anyway, I don't think that's it. Ever since the last time Dad forgot his billfold, Mom's never leaves the house without money."

A worried expression crossed Soda's face. "They probably just got a flat tire, then, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed, "Probably just car trouble. They'll be home soon. Mom wouldn't let Dad party this long."

"You sure, Darry?" Pony asked, turning away from the screen again with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Superman knows everything, don't he?"

Pony grinned.

They blindly watched the television for another half hour.

XXX

"They're not here yet, Darry," Soda informed him.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Darry could sometimes be snippy when buzzed. And when worried. "I think uh … I think I'll call around to the local hospitals and make sure they're not there."

"Hospitals?" Pony's voice cracked.

"Don't worry, buddy," Soda soothed, "He's just makin' sure, right, Dar?"

Darry nodded and in a swift motion rose from his seat and grabbed the phone.

"What's the number for Hillcrest?"

"I dunno, I don't memorize that kind of stuff," Soda said only half-sarcastically.

Darry rolled his eyes, hung up the phone and went into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a phone book open to H - Hospitals. Again, he picked up the phone, and this time dialed a number.

"Hello. Yes, I was hoping you could tell me if either a Darrel Curtis Senior or Sarah Curtis has been admitted tonight?" He paused for a long moment, receiving his answer. "Okay, thank you very much, ma'am."

Darry turned to his siblings with a look of slight relief. "Not there."

"Call Saint Francis too, Darry," Soda reminded him.

"Yeah, I know."

Darry looked at the phone book and dialed another number.

"Hello, my name is Darrel Curtis and I was wondering if you could tell me if a Darrel Curtis Senior or Sarah Curtis has been admitted tonight?"

He paused for a longer while this time.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I see. Well, I'm sure it's not them—,"

Seeming to have been cut off, he paused again.

"Darrel Curtis. All right. I'll come check it out, but I'm sure it's not them. And y'all are located off of — Okay. Okay. Thank you."

Pony turned off the television. "Are they there?"

Darry walked to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket. "No. Well, I don't think so … I'm just gonna go down there and check."

"What do you mean, 'check'?" Soda cocked an eyebrow slightly.

"I mean, I'm just gonna make sure. I'll be back in just a while. You guys go to bed. When Mom gets home and sees y'all up you'll be tomorrow's ham and bacon, ya know?"

"Yeah, right. I can charm Mom outta anything," Soda said with a sly grin.

Darry didn't wait to make sure his brothers followed the order; he put on his jacket and walked back out the door.

The combination of the phone call and sudden brisk coldness was enough to sober Darry up completely. Sober enough to drive a car, though he lacked. He was forced to simply button his coat and begin the walk to the hospital.

Trudging along against the icy wind numbed his brain, but for some reason it managed to continue worrying.

_What if it's them? No, it can't be. What are the odds? Slim, right? Of course. But what would happen if it _was _them? Nothing, because it's not them. It. That doesn't sound right. What if they really are dead?_

Darry tried to shake off the thoughts but all that did was cause him to sneeze. He rubbed his surely-red nose and popped the collar of his jacket in a feeble attempt to stay warm.

Around a half hour later he arrived at St. Francis.

He rushed as fast as his frozen legs would let him into the ER and over to the front desk.

"I'm here to … I'm Darrel Curtis, I'm here to possibly identify two bodies that arrived here tonight," he addressed the receptionist. "I mean, I don't think I'll be identifying anyone, but, you know, I guess you never know, so … just in case." He couldn't help but ramble.

She nodded and wheeled her chair to the other side of the desk. She picked up a phone, spoke quietly into it for a moment, and then returned to her original spot in front of Darry.

"Just one moment, please."

Several-dozen moments later a doctor in scrubs appeared in the lobby. As Darry was the only one there, the doctor spoke directly to him.

"You Darrel Curtis?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Dr. Montgomery. Come this way, please."

Darry followed the doctor without thinking, absentmindedly wiping his palms on his jeans. How they had so quickly gone from freezing cold to sweaty and clammy, he did not know.

They took an elevator to a lower floor.

"We checked them for some form of ID," the doctor said, "Couldn't find a wallet or anything."

_He always forgets something …_

"Darrel Curtis Sr. was on his union card," the doctor continued. "She didn't have ID on her."

Darry did not approve of the past tense.

"We've been trying to reach the family … you … for a while. It's just a little more difficult when there's no drivers' license."

"Well, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding," Darry answered, halting anymore conversation as they exited the elevator and walked down a hall.

"I'm sure it is," the doctor agreed and shut up from then on.

As they approached the window of a room with two sheet-covered bodies inside, Darry felt a sudden overwhelming apprehension and a knot formed in his stomach.

_Curtis is a common name. So is Darrel. Isn't it? Sure it is. They were at least two other Darrels at Rogers. And God knows how many Curtises. They're not the ones under those sheets. _

The doctor motioned for Darry to stay by the window as a doctor already in the room walked toward the bodies. He waited to make sure Darry was watching before lifting the first sheet.

Darry felt his heart crash down into his stomach as he stared at the body that was his father. His Adam's apple jumped when he swallowed and nodded and to tell the doctor the identification was positive. He turned quickly away.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Montgomery said. "You'll have to take just a quick look at the other one as well."

_The other one_.

Darry turned around slowly and locked eyes with the doctor behind the glass.

The doctor nodded and with a grim expression pulled down the sheet covering Darry's mother.

Darry looked only just long enough to surely tell who she was, and turned away so his back faced the glass. Though cleaned up, she looked like she was still bleeding.

After replacing the sheet over the second body, the doctor emerged from the room with a sorrowful look on his face.

"I'm very sorry," he told the back of Darry's head. "Accidents like this happen all the time around this time of the year. Especially on New Years, with all the drinking people do. The roads are still a little icy from the December storm, too. Things like this just … happen, sometimes. God's like that."

Darry turned to look at him and with an icy glare warned the doctor to stop speaking. He got the message.

Dr. Montgomery spoke up next. "You'll need to fill out some paperwork, but, if you'd like, you can deal with it another day. You can, uh, make arrangements for a funeral at a later date, but we do have someone here now if you'd like to speak with her …."

Darry's breathing was suddenly coming in rapid and uneven succession. He swallowed hard again and told himself to calm down. His knuckles hurt from being kept in tight fists for too long, but he only gripped them tighter and shoved them in his pockets. He walked down the hall back toward the elevator.

He got in, not hearing anything the doctor said, and leaned against the railing to keep his balance. The vision of his broken mother and father was etched into his eyes and he could not erase it.

And there it would stay for the rest of Darry's years.

_The best time of the year …._


End file.
